Calamus
by saffroncremebrulee
Summary: What if the price for defeating Zorc wasn't just his name, but everyone he once held dear? Ancient Egypt Revolutionshipping. Atem x Teana. Slightly AU and dark. On permanent hiatus.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO or Laini Taylor's work. This is a work of fanfiction.

Thank you, Silver, for your insightful commentary and encouragement.

* * *

"Your soul sings to mine. My soul is yours, and it always will be, in any world. No matter what happens, I need you to remember that I love you."

Laini Taylor, _Daughter_ _of_ _Smoke & Bone_

 **Prologue:** **Forever**

She returned in vignettes of sky and sand, wisps of memories carved across his heart. As always, nameless, just azure eyes that morphed from youth to adolescence, then faded from view as he reached for answers that eluded him.

Who was she? Why is every crevices of his mind her home? Who was he, exactly? How did he get here? Where was here?

Somehow, his memories had been transposed into misty shadows of smoke. The stone-lined walls surrounding him were sharp as well as smooth. Cool, even, when he paced, careful not to puncture his soles on the jagged edges below. Chambers reverberated in a language he no longer understood. Once, his mouth sang their songs, his hands wrote their words, and his eyes read their stories. Now all he had were snippets of before, a calamus without ink, a book with a pristine spine.

In time, someone- perhaps her, even- would free him from this prison, but, for now, this long stretch of emptiness was him. Tufts of memories taunted, opening scenes that shredded like clouds beneath bare feet. Fragments of voices- one hers- beckoned, then faded every time he moved close enough to listen. Images formed reveries when he closed his eyes. She was always in the periphery, whirling in color and dissolving into darkness as soon as his eyelids flashed open.

Sometimes she brought snippers of others, too, just as insubstantial and ephemeral. One pair tall, fair, and blonde and the other pair tall, tan, and brunette with auburn strands that bled crimson under an autumn sun. He knew without knowing _how_ that they were all dead, just like he was. But while they lived, they cared for him, just as she did. But who were they, exactly? What parted them?

The questions percolated as he searched and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

Days dissolved into nights, months diffused into years, and decades blurred into millennia. Eventually, the questions themselves faded, to, dimming like stars in a distant galaxy he no longer inhabited. Emptiness crept in, vise-liked and cruel, colonizing his heart with brutal alarcity.

Soon all that was left was a roaring ball of light, blazing as it burnt the embers of his broken recollections. That, too, dimmed into the walls in his prison. The only sounds that broke the silence was the steady drip of puzzle pieces in the Nile, punctuated by vignettes of sky and sand.

...

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	2. Foretellings

**Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO. Just borrowing the characters for a bit.

 _for all the Revo folks, though fair warning this one is dark. Erm, please don't kick me out of the fandom?_

...

The city below looked simultaneously smaller and larger than it had in Teana's dreams. Smaller, because of their position on the hilltops above, with what meager rations they carried without arousing the wrong kind of interest from the Pharaoh's guards. Bigger, because now that their plans have come to fruition, the reality of what lay beyond the dip of the Nile. All of the painstaking preparations led up to this moment- momentous, perhaps, given the scale of the operation- by all accounts her heartbeat should be roaring louder than the pounding waters below, and yet all she felt and heard was a curious sense of calm.

 _Treason._

 _High treason._

A cold smile rippled across Teana's face. There was a slice of anger to it, slivers of determination, and most of all resignation to a fate already embraced. Death had always been their destination, even as they rationalized over and over again there must be some way to right the wrongs wrought upon them without resorting to treason.

Teana had always thought there was some magic that could be performed. For all the problems of life. After all, it was magic that took everything. Dark magic, to be sure, slaughtering an entire clan of people, but that magic was merely a means to an end. Simply a tool, used for ill or gain, and the people who wielded it were responsible for its effects. As a child, she had attempted to reverse the catatrasophe that levels a once peaceful city into gutted ash, but all of her meager effects did no more to soothe the blackened earth than the piecemeal ointments she prepared against loss. As if simple concoctions of herbs can ease the pain of having an entire life stolen by in masked- well, _masked_ no longer, not to Teana's Eye- riders claiming to do whatever necessary to salvage the empire.

Better to let the empire burn, Teana thought bitterly, than to burn its citizens as offerings. For all their talk of doing right, the Inner Council hesitated surprisingly little when it came to doing wrong in the name of whatever happened to be _right_ according to the Pharaoh's whims. That time it had been for the greater good of the empire. Next time it could be for the betterment of hair products. There was no one to check the unbridled power of the Throne, no one to stop the next slaughtering of innocents for some vague notion of ethics.

The smile became brittle, faltering as vignettes swirled.

 _Mother. Father. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins both young and old. Friends. Strangers._ All of whom ceased to exist after a single evening of destruction, wiped clean from existence by the simple decree of one man who couldn't even be bothered to be present for the complete and utter annihilation of his subjects, however exiled those subjects may have been.

The smell of burnt flesh followed her everywhere like a permanent stain now. If there had been justice in the world before, Teana did not entertain the delusion any longer. Fairness was a luxury afforded to the rich and powerful. Trials were predetermined for someone of her status- of, as the case was, lack of status. Bereft of family, clan, and ties, all she had to go on was her meager talent in magic, and that offered hardly any protection at all against the lecherous and greedy officials who sought to "sponsor" her for various demeaning tasks.

 _Well_ , they would have, had Bakura not been with her like a shadow.

Abruptly, the smile warmed. Then it wilted in a sudden burst of frost. The world was cruel, yes, but at least they had each other. Two sorry, scrappy gypsies playing a cruel and unforgiving game against people who all the advantages- a warm bed, education, opportunities, and hope. She glanced again at her traveling companion, who smiled and squeezed her hand in solidarity.

Here Teana paused. _No_ , that wasn't quite right. It was not true that they lacked hope. What they have is perhaps not the blinded optimism of the Empire, yet what they had was equally, if not more, compelling than the people who slept below, wrapped tightly in hope and ignorant of the presence that loomed above.

What they lacked in hope they made up for in _grit._

It had been so very hard to grow up with no family, no house, no community. They had stolen, begged, borrowed, and stole some more to survive. 'Kura hadn't started out as a master thief. He had been a gentle, happy boy in her too brief memories of paradise. One who taught her to sing with the birds who visited their small stone huts and one who soothed her cries after thoroughly thumping the neighborhood bullies. That boy vanished the night the bullies did. 'Kura never spoke of them again but, slowly, she watched him harden into cold limbs of metal. Once he had been gentle; now he was ruthless. Just last night he ordered the execution of a farmer who had attempted to betray their location to the Pharaoh's Guards. Once, long ago, she would have protested that brutal sentence of justice, now Teana just nodded her head in silent acceptance.

There was a price for everything.

They were fighting a war.

Many would die.

She and 'Kura would too, but not before the Pharaoh and his Court paid their debts.

...

A soft breeze fluttered across the courtyard. Apple blossoms quivered, then fell into the shaking waters of the bronze basin. The image of a young woman that was starting to form on the surface shattered. The only remnant was a chilly smile that winked at the sky above, then disappeared.

The reflection of the Millennium Necklace flashed in the basin before it, too, sunk into the night.

 _Tsk._

Isis sighed. That was the fifth time today that something had interrupted her efforts to divine the future. Someone- or perhaps _something_ \- has been blocking the Visions. Not that they were particularly clear anyway, but Isis could not recall a time that both the waters and her necklace have been silent. Master Aknadin was the most experienced Foreteller of them all, yet not even he managed to coax a hint of the storm that was about to arrive, or at least not a hint that he cared to share with the rest of the High Council.

Isis was not sentimental. She believed in the science of her craft as much as Priest Seto believed in stone cold logic. Whatever Foretellings that awaited were not going to reveal themselves tonight, just as they did not the fortnight prior. The force obscuring the Eye of Horus was strong, far stronger than she anticipated, and Isis knew the omens she sensed were gifted tauntingly, granted even, like a boon of sweets luring a small child to a maze of thorns.

 _Vengeance._

Master Aknadin held her gaze a moment too long when Isis reported that as yesterday's findings. There would be nothing new to report today, either. As the only remaining member of the High Council, Master Aknadin knew much and said little about this curiosity. The rest of the Council had accepted his silence on various matters as law out of deference, yet something about this unnatural silence regarding the coming storm made Isis uneasy. Nothing in particular pointed to that conclusion. Perhaps there were a few sharp questions now and then, along with brief lapses in concentration, but those could easily be attributed to the age and wisdom of Master Aknadin, right?

Isis scolded herself as she faced the basin yet again. Doubting the Senior Priest's bland denial of these mysterious events could be blasphemy, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about this unnatural lack of Foretelling that Master Aknadin was not sharing with the rest of the Council. Perhaps it was because Seto was so obstinately against all of the Visions, or perhaps it was because she herself had woken so frequently of late from nightmares of innocents being slaughtered-

Although...that was all foolishness, wasn't it?

Spirits do not seek vengeance. Humans did. And from what Isis could discern from her dreams, there was no one left in that mysterious place called Kul Elna (how had she known that name? Isis was sure that was the place, even though no records of it have ever been found in the Palace Archives) to wreck havoc on them now.

Sighing, Isis leaned forward. There was no face in the basin this time, or the next five times Isis attempted contact. No sliver of a smile either, though the blossoms continued to fall.

...

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	3. Chaos

**Chapter 2: Chaos**

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.

...

The moon dipped below the horizon as Bakura rode towards the city. Beside him, Teana wore a small frown that disappeared as soon as she caught his eye. She smiled and, for a moment, Bakura forgot where the road before them led-

 _Well_ , he didn't have to think about that today.

They were tense enough without that, the fatigue of a few months of traveling weighing on the silence. The dark circles below Teana's eyes marked her tiredness; clearly, communicating with that fool of a Priestess took much of her _ba,_ though Teana was battling from the back of a puny horse and her counterpart from the comforts of the Palace. Hardly a _fair_ contest of wills, though Teana defeated the Palace's attempts to locate them with relative ease.

There would be more skirmishes in the months to follow, more of opportunities to squash what little resistance their opponents put up. The game was just beginning and as much as Bakura respected his partner, he preferred to be as far away as possible when the magical fireworks exploded. Whatever Teana planned for the Guardians was bound to be explosive, though she seemed more tired by the hour.

Here Bakura frowned.

Perhaps those idiots who called themselves Magicians possessed more power than Teana let on. The illusions that masked their arrival were necessary. Teana insisted on weaving them herself, though Bakura could have done so. She had insisted, though, on him preserving as much of his _ba_ as possible for the days ahead.

Ra willing, that would be enough to save them both.

...

Mahad awoke with a startled grunt.

Or, rather, the Millennium Ring awoke him with a startled grunt of metal hissing against skin. Everywhere Mahad looked the ring singed the skin on his bare chest. He winced. Some of the points hurt, almost digging into the skin below. Gingerly, he pulled at one spike, letting out a soft gasp against as the gold vibrated, almost as if it had a consciousness that resisted his touch.

Mahad winced as the spike dropped again with a soft sizzle.

Palace lore whispered the items had minds of their own, but Mahad always dismissed them as foolishness, especially within Mana's hearing range. It wasn't that Mahad was _worried_ , necessarily, about the darkness he sensed from the items; he was worried about the people who wore them, especially Mana, who didn't seem to understand that the world was not all jokes and giggles. Not that people should think about lurking evils and all that, just that perhaps... _well_ , a modicum of seriousness would help.

Isis's grim prediction that _something_ \- she wasn't sure what, exactly- was coming their way made Mahad weary. Master Aknadin seemed almost as oblivious as Mana every time Isis mentioned the subject. Either the elder Guardian dismissed the premonitions as frivolous or he already planned for them, but neither scenario made Mahad feel any safer, especially with the Ring sizzling against his skin.

Something wasn't quite right. Unless he imagined it, even the darkness itself seemed bleaker than usual, a little _**too** __dark,_ almost.

 _Too dark? Really?_

Mahad shook his head. Isis was right. He _had_ been spending too much time with the Old Scrolls in the Temple. All the prophesies of looming doom and gloom must have completely scrambled his brain. _Of course_ it was dark. It was the middle of the night, for Ra's sake, and if Master Aknadin said there was nothing to worry about when it came to the unnaturally long shadows that dotted the walls, well, then, there _was_ nothing to worry about, not really, anyways. Of all the people who should know about evil, Master Aknadin knew the most and was probably doing all he can to save the empire, just as he had for all these decades.

 _No matter who it hurts,_ an unwelcome voice slithered across the ring.

Mahad shook himself again. Were the shadows... _whispering_?

Tomorrow, he would have to have a _long_ talk with Mana about pulling practical jokes on teachers.

...

Master Aknadin strode quickly through the palace, long, lean slippers slicing through the air as he cut through swatches of apprentices and servants. Some gave terrified squeaks at the expression on his face. One moved to hide behind a lean marble column, almost knocking over another white-robed apprentice in haste. _Sh...Shu_ -something or the other, with the flaming red hair, almost fell headfirst against a brown-haired Guardian named...well, whoever he was he definitely wasn't as important as the person Master Aknadin was thinking of, and so the wizened man hurried on, oblivious to the stammers and blushes that followed.

Atonement was coming.

Aknadin was sure of it.

...

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	4. The Seasons

**D** **isclaimer:** I do not own YGO.

Apologies for the long, long wait. I am taking a break from writing YGO stories for the foreseeable future. As promised, this is the current progress of _Calamus_. It's not my best work by a long shot, but it will give those of you who wanted to know how the story ends an idea of where I was hoping to go. It was supposed to be a longer, drawn out saga...

 **Book** **I**. **Spring**

"It is too possible to fly!"

A boy of five, perhaps six, short for his age, proclaimed this from the rooftop. The streets of Cairo sprawled beneath him, redolent pastoral elegance. People and livestock bustled from corner to corner, stall to stall. Not even the camels noticed their Crown Prince and future Pharaoh above them, which was just as well because he was gesticulating his arms in a comical effort to be more aerodynamically streamlined.

Errant gusts of wind interrupted the seriousness his quest. He didn't seem fazed by nature, or at least the comic relief a few strawy lotus petals provided his companion, who muffled snorts of delight at the scene. Birds, after all, didn't have to contend with ripples blonde, black, and auburn bangs that fluttered every which way when the wind blew, not to mention the flowers dripping from the rooftop garden.

The girl was also five, perhaps six, or maybe, curious with mirthful eyes that gleamed like the azure Nile. Her gaze traveled from her friend, to the streets below and to the skies above before she spoke, gently, as if explaining to an obstinate child. "Temmy, you've been trying for months. Maybe it's impossible to fly."

"Two months, five days, and seventeen hours." Temmy's chubby fingers punctuated his calculations. This announcement sounded more decree-like than he intended, so he amended his tone. "But Tee, I'm Ra." He pursed his lips. "Ra can fly, right?" Being a biped seemed to a grievous mishap to his impending induction into the adult world of Ra and Osiris and other monumental creatures he didn't quite recognize.

Tee's expression softened at the worry in his face. All traces of her mirth disappeared. "I'm glad you can't fly, Temmy."

"Why?" Temmy was genuinely perplexed. What could possibly be better than soaring over the cities above, free and wild as Ra intended, stupid prophesy or not?

"Because then you can stay here with me, silly."

...

Atem paced.

The hull was wide, opening into a pastel-colored sky that eluded his touch. the planks were wider than he remembered, but then, the last time he boarded a ceremonial boats was last spring, during his Coronation Ceremony. Part of his smile wilted. Much has changed in the summer since. Mahad had finished construction on his father's tomb. He was no longer Crown Prince but a Pharaoh, the reincarnation of Ra and Savior of Egypt.

His Egypt.

Its pastoral elegance sparkled in the distance.

 **Book** **II**. **Summer**

That evening, she was silhouetted in rain, the daily crisis reports in one hand and his favorite quill in the other. A mountain of unopened scrolls lay on one side of the table, assorted matters still awaiting directives. Her gold signet ring swayed in the breeze, accompanied by the faint patter of calamus dancing on papyrus and droplets against the window. Errant leaves splattered her hair, yet she continued to write as if the sheets of rain and wind were mere distractions and not recipes for illness.

Atem crossed the room in hurried strides. _Thump_ went the window, blocking half a sheet of rain. The other half assailed his torso. The woman at the table continued to write. Decrees on the upcoming grain shortage were signed and sealed for Karim. Strategic maps for Mahad were already sketched in neat lines. The latest project was some sort of flood prevention program.

The pen looked more worn than usual, probably because she had been nibbling on it instead of actual food since the morning, when Seto delivered the latest crime reports. Whoever that Bakura character was, he sure favored munitions and gold. Three tombs already reported attempted break-ins, yet nothing had been stolen.

Sighing, Atem lit the lanterns, drenching the room in brilliance. He was worried about the surge of break-ins, too, but that was no reason to neglect his health.

Isis, however, was still pacing in the Throne Room, patiently waiting for her afternoon audience while Shada waited, too, for his evening debriefings. Neither commented when Atem strode past with a breakfast tray and an exasperated expression.

Why she insisted on defying his every order and _please, darling,_ to at least eat before attending to her royal duties, he didn't know. Here she was again, draped over the table with a measly cup of water and no food. It was a habit now, to to bringing her breakfast before morning court. Since Seto had been droning on (and on, and on) about the ka hunt since midnight, however, he hadn't had a chance to do so today.

Poor Seto. Atem knew his cousin meant well, but unfortunately the man had a way of grating on everyone's nerves with his (justified, to be sure) smarter-than-thou attitude. Egypt was lucky to have someone of Seto's intellectual prowess. He always told Isis that Seto would be Pharaoh if he perished in the fight against Zorc; the sad glint his seer's eyes gave him told him all he needed to know about that reality. Isis couldn't foretell his future; his beloved's, however, was known to everyone except his beloved. Atem wondered if he should tell her he was about to expire. Then he shook himself. No. No need to depress her when we still have some time together.

Atem observed Teana a bit longer. He treasured the moments when she wasn't Queen or Princess or Guardian because she was most herself, devoid of the usual fanfare that accompanied state functions. To him she was just Teana, the girl who captured his heart so long ago and never returned it. Not that he wanted his heart back. He was content to let her thold and treasure it forever and always just like he treasured hers.

Teana heard his smile when he wrapped his cape around her, tucking his customary lotus flower behind one ear. Her hair smelled like summer, sprinkled with tiny flecks of mist and grace.

"My Prince." She murmured absentmindedly. "Breakfast already?"

Reports trickled in from the rest of the Kingdom.

 **Book** **III**. **Fall**

There was a biting loneliness in the air.

Not even Teana's embrace warmed it.

The glassiness of the battlefield haunted Atem's dreams. Tangled remnants of cities that once stood, people who once were, and a kingdom that barely was. The siege on Kul Elna had been heroic but disastrous. As they feared, Jou insisted on leading the charge anyway. When what was left of the council disagreed, he snuck his regiment out of the city one crisp autumn evening and never returned.

Mai, spurred by grief, lead her Harpies and regiment in an equally heroic quest to recover what was left of her husband's team.

They didn't return, either.

Kul Elna was lost.

One by one, the forces dwindled and, along with them, their hope that Zorc would one day be defeated. Isis knelt by the temple each night in supplication for answers; the Gods didn't reply. Weariness blended her features, making her appear much older than twenty-two. The Necklace no longer gleaned the future, she reported, yet the imperceptible waver in her voice told Atem that her gift still Saw, just not the things they wanted to see.

Karim was next, spearheading a just as useless charge into the North. That, too, was lost, along with Shada and the South, Mahad and the West, and Akhnadin on the East. Darkness ensnared the kingdom in a vise-like grip.

He didn't want to fight anymore. Weariness sunk his bones.

 **Book** **IV**. **Winter**

The next morning was achingly normal. Or maybe they were all just tired, bone weary, exhausted to the brink of insanity. Atem didn't know which was which anymore. They had already lost so many. It was just Mai and Jou at first, then Tristan and Ren, and then one by one the Guardians until only Mana, Seto, and Isis remained. Technically Shada remained, too, in his dismembered spirit form, but Atem wasn't sure if that counted as surviving or simply existing in some limbo state until the next time Zorc decided to wreck havoc.

There won't be a next time, Atem promised himself grimly. His people had suffered enough. Today was The Day.

Beside him, Teana stirred. "My prince?" There was still a musical optimism in her voice. He smiled into her tresses.

"I brought you purple lotus. Your favorite."

Her smile lit him from within. She leaned in to kiss him, a single salty tear trailing down her face. More glimmered in her irises, making them appear bluer than normal. "I want to be with you today, My Prince. It would mean much to me."

Atem sighed. She wanted to be _there_. Of course. But he didn't want her last memories of him to be one of death. If she were to remember him at all, it would be happier times of kissing under clear skies and dancing in the sand. He paused to choose the right words. "I would rather you not witness the carnage of battle, my love. Many have died. I shall not add you to the memorial scroll."

She kissed him again. There was that overprotectiveness again. "I'm not going anywhere, My Prince, and neither are you." The flower went behind her ear, per usual. Teana was gone from the tent before he realized she was already dressed and it wasn't even dawn yet.

Teana was already atop the chariot when Atem dressed himself in the linens she placed on his side of the bed. He noticed she polished his puzzle with a soda solution, probably one procured from the cannon division, pausing by the Eye of Horus with a small prayer. The archery division was behind the city walls holding their defenses. Mana's ragtag band of sorcerers were behind the wall, too, chanting spells with makeshift wands while various kas circled overhead. The Dark Magician Girl and the Dark Magician were engaged in a fierce battle with a horde of zombie creatures. Seto and Kisara were already on horseback somewhere near the front lines.

Teana was taking tactical strategy reports when Atem arrived with breakfast and reinforcements. "After all this time?" She teased.

"Yes, my love. Forever and always." He kissed her hair, inhaling the scent of lotus and summer and prayed for Ra to forgive him for lying. It wasn't meant to be, not in this lifetime, yet he wanted to maintain the illusion that it was, if only for a little bit before the galaxies came barreling through his naiveté.

Several hours later, the battle raged on. The massive horde of zombies seemed to swell by the minute while Egypt's forces dwindled. Zorc made his appearance by scalping several nearby villages of their huts. Mahad and Mana retaliated by divesting him of his miniature dragon appendage. The troops cheers were truncated by the miniature dragon's resurrection. It shook, roared, and slithered before shooting a black stream of destruction in Atem's direction.

For a moment the sun stood still.

Then the galaxies spun.

A pair of very familiar hands pushed him out of the way into a nearby canopy. Dust swirled. When the sandstorm cleared she was in his arms, murmuring in her sweet voice "I love you, My Prince. Remem-"

The light from his heart faded.

She slid from his hands like sand into the Nile. It was as if Zorc cut the strings of a marionette and stopped at the very moment the last limb was to fall. Silence draped the scene once again. Atem felt inexplicably, curiously mute, deaf, blind, dumb, and numb.

 _Numb_.

Time froze.

She didn't.

The galaxies continued to spin, this time without Teana, who stiffened in his arms.

Her form fell through his hands like a moonlit whisper, silently and softly like a whisper of silk over sand.

Then, without warning, the swell of battle as the troops caught sight of the carnage. Seto's angered yell roared as he and Kisara galloped towards the front lines with streams of molten blue cutting swatches through the Thief King's army of undead.

For a moment Atem simply _looked_ , uncomprehending.

Then the steady drum of a lone heartbeat where two used to duet pounded. Louder and louder until it ruptured his eardrums into one undistinguishable howl of grief that blasted from his mouth in an inhuman ode to loss. Sharp slivers of pain cut through Atem's consciousness. The plans they had so carefully laid together fell in ribbons at his feet. The gentle tinkle of her laugh- _gone_ , never to return again. The graceful swell of her arms when she danced- _gone_ , never to return again. pitter-patter of small feet echoing through the Palace- _gone_ , never to return again. The pastel-colored dreams they had of rebuilding Egypt into a land of peace and prosperity- that wasn't gone yet, and it may still return if he had the courage.

Atem roared.

 _This_ is what Isis meant by the ultimate sacrifice. He had thought always it would be him- just himself. Teana would be spared. But that wasn't to be at all. It never was; he just deluded hishimself into thinking that it was because he wanted to protect her from Zorc for as long as he could, as he should, as long as he wanted because he was Ra and damn it, if he can't fly, he could at least protect the ones he loved.

She had _known_ that wasn't to be, he realized with a shudder. She had known from the beginning what the prophesy meant and she came to the battlefield today willingly because she knew what the blood sacrifice was. The goodbye kiss they shared this morning wasn't from him to her- it was from her to him. Ra marked her as his long ago. She had known that as soon as she saw the Thief King at the helm of battle, yet still she said nothing when she intercepted the blast meant for him.

 _Why_?

Why hadn't she mentioned this? Why did she keep this from him? Why, of all the people Zorc could have taken, he took her? Was it truly too much that he have one lifetime- one measly lifetime- with the person he loved more than his immortal soul?

There were no answers, only cries of anguish.

He sank to his knees, cradling her still-warm form. The scent of lotuses- sticky and sweet (or was that the cooper tinge of blood dripping through shaking fingers?)- faded from her hair when he wept. Slowly, memories of her were fading. She had enchanted him so he would forget. Rather than condemn him to a lifetime of remembering her, she condemned him to a lifetime of hollowness, forever searching.

Atem swallowed. His gaze flickered towards the spell-book Mahad had left behind. All that was left was a pair of azure eyes as clear as the Nile on the day they met. His grip tightened on the papyrus. Steadily, he began to chant the forbidden spell his tears illuminated. Behind him, Cairo shuddered.

Light tore through the battlefield once again.

His last thought was that his mind may forget, but his heart never would.

 **Epilogue** : **Always**

He returned to her in vignettes of sea and sand, wisps of memories forever carved in her heart. Different names for the same person. Atem. Yugi. Pharaoh. The King of Games. Amethyst eyes that morphed from youth to adolescence and now adulthood, then sharpening into view as she reached towards the light illuminated her soul. Two pairs of people followed. One couple tall, fair, and blonde and another pair tall, brunette, and redhead. Both boy and girl. The were couples. Their embrace and their smile said so and she knew them once like she did now. They were her dearest friends in the world. They loved each other as much as they loved her? And him. The questions were fading, fading, and fading while the answers were glimmering, glimmering, glimmering.

Yes.

 _Yes_.

 ** _Yes_** **.**

The light roared when it lit the embers of her recollections. They rushed before her eyes, replaced the chill of emptiness with golden warmth. She was complete and she knew why.

He was here again, in her arms, and they were together again like they were meant to be.

Forever and always.

...

This is the current draft. If I have time in the future, I promise _Calamus_ will be completed.


	5. Bonus Chapter

**Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO.

This chapter was edited by the wonderful Silverwindsblog...gosh...last summer? (That's how long this ending has existed and how long I've been procrastinating).

With my thanks, this chapter is for Silver.

...

My Dear Atem:

Forgive the manner of my departure.

I have known since the beginning that today was the price we must pay for our dream of a peaceful and prosperous Egypt.

You, too, have known.

You simply refused to believe.

You thought the prophesy of sacrifice referred to you and only you. My darling husband, so very self-sacrificing and so very, very noble. Always putting others above himself. As he should, yet that does not lessen the burden on you.

I, on the hand hand, have known and believed all along that today would come to pass. I have seen you at the Temple in your prayers. Communing with our ancestors about our future- the one we were to have, had destiny not intervened.

 _Destiny._

This is our destiny. Was our destiny. Always will be.

The prophesy refers to all of us.

By the time you read this, I shall be gone, never to return. Jou, Honda, Mai, Shizuka will have accompanied me on my journey to Ra. We shall all be dead, perished in the field of battle against Zorc. I know not the exact manner of our journey, but I know we are gone as surely as I know there are tears in your beautiful amethyst eyes now.

Forgive me, my love. This was the only way.

Our _kas_ are all gone. My beloved Magician of Faith, Jou's Red Eyes, Honda's Robo Yaro, Mai's Harpy Sisters, and Shizuka's Maidens- all gone, obliberated from the sands of Egypts by an evil greater than all of our good combined.

But you, my love, _you_ remain, bitter and grieving, yes, but here you stand on our behalf.

So you must fight on, no matter how dark tomorrow will be for you.

You must fight on for _us_.

The two of us, with our feet in the Nile, plucking lotuses from the waters, kissing by the bank.

The six of us, with our hands in the fig trees, picking olives from the branches, throwing mud at Set when he tried to lecture us on responsibility and duty.

 _Duty._

We have _lived_ it. Breathed it. Died for it.

All five of us were at the Sacrificial Chamber this morning.

All of us, with our hands in the Sacrificial Chamber this morning, heads bowed, knees to the ground, bound by enchantments that even you, the most powerful magician in the land, cannot break. Do not try, my love. You will not succeed. Destiny sealed our spell the moment we drew the ancient runes on our hands.

This is our duty to you, our king, as well as the skies and sands we call home.

You need not cry, my love. You suspected from our plan from the beginning, did you not? That is why you posted Mana at the door of the Temple each and every night, to prevent us from using the ancient spell?

Do not be hard on her, love. You know as well as I do that not even your royal edicts can stop me when I have come to a decision. Jou is as stubborn as they are made, as is Mai, Honda, and Shizuka. Mana did not stop us because no one could have.

Be kind to Mana. She feels it is punishment enough that she could not protect us with her _ka_. That is not true. She is a powerful sorceress, one that will serve and protect Egypt- you, my love- however she may and however you wish, with my blessing for your future and the future of Egypt.

You have guessed what has happened, haven't you not?

You must have gone to the Temple of Ra already. That is where I am. Where we all are, along with many more. Laying by the pyre, probably, anointed with oils and tears, many of which will be yours.

We have not left your side, Atem. We are still with you. When you go to the Temple again, fix your gaze on the stone walls above, the one that contains all the _kas_.

What do you see?

The three blank slates where the Gods dwell?

 _Empty no more._

We have combined our souls so you can have the ultimate power of the Pharaoh- the power of the Gods. By stripping ourselves from the wheel of reincarnation, we have given you our essence. Jou and Mai, combined, to give you Slifer, who shall roar from the skies at your behest. Honda and Shizuka, combined, to give you Obelisk, who shall shake the earth at your behest.

And me. Alas, I have not left you with an heir to remember me by (or, as you will discover, I have not left you with any memories of us at all). Rather, I have left you with Ra, the most powerful of the creatures available to you.

But _how_? I can see the questions percolating in your mind. The ritual requires two complete souls- two powerful, ancient _bas_ forged in friendship and kinship.

The answer is simple.

I have traded my name in lieu of your soul. I have traded all of my memories, my lifetimes, my powers- all that we had in this world that was _ours_ \- for a chance that you may live to rule the land we love more than our lives, our names, our futures.

My love, I shall not be reincarnated in any form (save a miracle of Horakhty, may the heavens bless her name), and that is my choice. Atem, there is no use blaming yourself. I made the choice to disappear, to not exist anywhere, anymore, in any time, except in your memories, which I have enchanted to fade along with every recollection of the time we have spent together.

Why? You ask, turning your face towards the Ra. Why must I deprive you of the moments that bond us closer than any other?

Because I do not want you to grieve for me, Atem. Because I am yours and you are mine, we belong to each other as Ra with the dawn, the stars with the night, and the lilies with the Nile. I do not want you to search in vain for someone you shall never find in this or any other lifetime. You must _live_ for both of us.

You are my light. As long as you live, I shall live, too, through you- the lives you touch, the good you do, the children you shall raise to rule in justice and fairness like you. In death, my spirit shall serve you and your heirs as I have served you in life, as all of have here, by the skies and sands of our home. The enchantment is permanent, but I suspect it will not be as thorough as I desire. You will no doubt still see fragments of me, especially when you see Ra...

Try as I might I cannot save you from those snippets, but what I can leave you is _this_ -

-the golden calamus you gave me on our wedding day-

 _Remember?_

You requested my promise to write my happiest memories with it. And so I have collected all of them here, for you, every recollections of the life we built together, starting from our first meeting by the Nile and ending today on the battlefield. It is all here. Every flower you placed on my pillowcase, every edict we dictated together, every kiss and every sigh- all here, waiting for you after- no, _when_ \- you defeat Zorc tomorrow.

After that I shall be gone. The papyri will disappear. My beautiful dresses, jewelry, everything you had commissioned for me, will all fade into oblivion. It will be as if I never existed, as if Jou, Mai, Honda, and Shizuka never existed. All that will be left of us will be the ultimate power of the Pharaoh- the Gods of Egypt, and, through them, the answer to our prayers of a peaceful and prosperous Egypt.

 _Atem._

I love you.

I shall love you in each and every lifetime you may have, in the times your soul is waiting for reincarnation, and in the time your soul will join mine in the afterlife. You shall have all of these back then, but until that time, I shall be with you in your heart, in your duels, and in what snippets of you may see from the sunlight reflecting off our calamus.

Until we meet again, my love.

Your Teana


End file.
